Of Freedom and Family
by LightsAurora
Summary: F!Hawke, captured by slavers and sold to Magister Denarius, finds friendship and love in the slave Leto. But she can't forget the family she left behind, and neither can he forget the family he swore to free. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first evah FanFiction, and also my first fill for the Dragon Age k!meme. The prompt:

_"I want to see Lady Hawke meeting Fenris's previous personality, by whatever means necessary, be it AU or reversion to a previous personality or what have you."_

This is my take on the prompt, which starts a few years before the Fifth Blight and will follow the repercussions through the events of Dragon Age 2. I look forward to any and all ConCrits, and I hope you enjoy! ^_^

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><p>However much she wanted to carve her fingernails into the guards' lungs, Ryna Hawke knew there would be no point. She was already on the slaver ship, which was already well on the way to Tevinter. Besides that, she was still bruised, shackled, weak with hunger and recently awake from a drug-induced sleep. No, she'd have to bide her time. She lowered her head when one of them walked by, lightly tapping the end of a club into his palm.<p>

Once he was past, Ryna pushed her back against the beam she was chained to, massaging the sores and trying not to think of worst case scenarios. Which, really, seemed to be the current one. Honestly, evading slavers had never been on her mind. Templars? Of course! Her whole life had been about hiding Bethany from the Templars. But who would have ever guessed slavers would find their way to small-town Lothering? Ferelden didn't permit the practice, but apparently that didn't matter.

All Ryna could do was pray Bethany had kept hidden from the slavers and the Templars, that Carver had made it to warn Father, and that Father wouldn't try to rescue her. She got herself into this mess, and by the Maker, she would get herself out, even if it took years. So long as her family was safe, Ryna could endure anything.

She hoped.

Ryna didn't have much to do, so when she wasn't attempting to sleep, she watched the slavers, and her fellow cargo. The guards made sure each slave ate the stale bread and drank enough water to keep from dying, and Ryna wondered how many trips hadn't yielded a return on investment, to have them so careful with their cargo. Even when they were beating down scrappers, the slavers never went near the face or broke many bones.

When Ryna noticed the young teen girl beside her gather herself as if to lunge, she groaned inwardly. A fighter like her would only get sold to a master who wanted to break her - in any way he could. Ryna didn't want to get involved, but neither did she like the idea of that spirit being destroyed. With a sigh, she placed a careful hand in restraint on the girls' shoulder. At the startled squeak, Ryna shook her head slowly, then retreated against her beam as a guard began heading down their line. When the guard came past she held her breath, grateful when the girl didn't attack.

"I'm not going to give up and let them take my pride," the girl whispered resentfully, when the guards were far enough from them.

"It's not giving up." At the skeptical look from the girl, Ryna offered a mischievous smirk and a wink. "It's planning ahead."

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><p>The training yard, normally a cacophony of hard working bodies, was almost deathly quiet. All the guards and trainees not on duty stood along the four walls, watching their Master pick and prod at the wares Steward Petrel had brought from the bazaar for his perusal. Leto shifted uncomfortably under the heavy weight of the greatsword strapped to his back. He was used to the heft of the weapon in his hands as he trained, but was not in the habit of simply carrying it.<p>

A glare from Captain Goreth stilled Leto. Rumor among the guards had it that whatever experiments Denarius was preoccupied with required a lot of magic. The missing faces amongst the staff left little question on where the Magister was getting the extra power. No one had commented on how the ones missing were the ones most recently reprimanded.

Leto raised an appraising eye at the potential additions to the household. Few of them looked strong or fast enough to be placed in the Magister's guard, and the ones that did had been quickly rejected by Denarius. Leto let his gaze wander over the others with a modicum of relief. The fewer he had to compete against for a place in the Magister's personal bodyguard, the easier it would be for him to win a spot. The boon he would receive would free his mother and sister. Even if it meant he couldn't go with them, he would see them free and safe.

Hopefully.

With the afternoon waning, Leto was sure his Master was done acquiring new blood - he suppressed a shudder at the unfortunate choice of words - and hoped he'd done well enough today to gain a full ration for dinner. Denarius seemed in better spirits, if now bored with the slavers and their wares.

Denarius had just begun walking back to the mansion when one of the slavers called for his attention, hauling a young woman with him. She pulled on the chains, but Leto could see it was out of a desire to show some measure of decency rather than fear. The slaver mentioned she was a trained mage, which garnered the Magister's undivided interest. The guards and slaves all stiffened at the notion of extra magic in the estate.

"She should just give in and hope she's worth something to Denarius," Torpa, on Leto's right, muttered under his breath as the slave shook her head in confusion.

"Maybe that's exactly what she's doing." There was something… determined about the woman, yet cautious. "We'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I find myself wondering if Leto comes across as a decent precursor to the Fenris we meet in game. Any and all reviews and critiques are welcome. They help me keep the story up to standards, both yours and my own. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

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><p>Makers left nut. So that's why she had been captured - they had wanted a mage, and instead gotten a rogue. Ryna was now doubly grateful her Fathers' evasive tactics had kept Bethany safe from all this. If they had not played in the shadows and worked to seem as only one person instead of their two…<p>

With some effort, Ryna shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind of all the what ifs, and to contradict the slaver. This Denarius was not a good man. It was clear from the overabundance of guards and the way the slaves of the house flinched at the mention of more magic. If she didn't perform to his expectations, it could go very badly for her.

Ryna didn't fight the fist that wrapped itself into her hair and forced her to her knees before the Magister. The mask that hid her fear also hid her revulsion at that particular position. It also let her work out the best course of action to disabuse the Magister and the slaver of the unintended lie.

"You managed to capture a mage?" Ryna could hear the amused insult in the Magister's deep yet effeminate voice. "Well, that would require a demonstration. Don't you think so, my dear?"

Denarius reached down and placed a finger underneath her chin, arching it to force her face up. Ryna tried to keep her eyes off the Magister, but he tilted her head far enough back that she let her eyes rest on the tip of his nose. She barely checked the shudder of disgust as she felt the mans gaze rake her body. With a steadying breath, she found her courage to speak in as meek and deferential way as possible.

"My Lord, I am no mage."

"Liar!" The fist in her hair wrenched her head further back, spittle landing on her cheek as the slaver screamed in her face. Ryna fought the urge to yell back all the mistakes the slaver had made since capturing her. She was not going to let his failure cost her her life.

Ryna forced a whimper and thought of never seeing her family again, which brought a few tears to her eyes. "My Lord, I was protecting an apostate from templars when I was abducted, you have to believe me. I can't do magic." She was proud of the waver in her voice.

"The caves were empty but for you, Ferelden dog," sneered the slaver, slamming his knee into Ryna's back. She bit back a cry, only willing to give a reaction that was affected. "Who else could have cast those spells?"

"I swear, the mage was in there." The slaver yanked on her hair again, and Ryna let a hand scrabble at the grip on her hair with a small whine. It really was starting to bother. "It was a tactic to make templars believe I was the mage, so they would release me when their powers didn't work."

"A decoy." Ryna could hear the cold mirth in Denarius' voice, and resisted the temptation to look up at him. With another, she might have used the sad, hopeful face her Father always melted at, but she didn't want to give this man any more power over her than he already had. "What a pity that Templars are the least of my concern."

Several strands of hair pull from their anchors in her scalp as the slaver twists his hand. "If what she says is true, then she's a good fighter. Took down three of my men and injured several more before we could get the sleeper potion on her. And that was without the magic."

Denarius didn't bother to respond, only looked at her with a queer consideration. This time, Ryna couldn't suppress the tremor that coursed down her spine. She could practically see the calculations swirling around his head. Whatever he was thinking would not be good for her health.

There was nothing she could do. If she mouthed off or fought, it would probably only please him. But with the slaver pushing her fighting prowess, she couldn't continue to play the docile slave. She was, in fact, a Ferelden, a people known for their stubbornness and pride. She'd have to carefully balance her put upon subservience with defiance to keep Denarius from looking too closely at her and seeing her motives.

"Put her with the trainees."

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><p>Venhedis. Not a mage, but a fighter. Leto took some comfort in the knowledge that, as a new slave, she would still have to prove herself, despite her supposed experience. He would befriend her, learn anything she had to offer. Maybe that would at least even the scales. Preferably tip them in his favor, but he would take what he could get.<p>

Leto watched as Denarius and the slaver haggled over price, and flinched when the Magister's hand crackled with lightning in annoyance. It was clear he wanted the woman, for whatever reason, but not at the cost the slaver was pushing for. The slaver still had his hand in her hair when the deal was struck. It seemed he was not happy with amount, and shoved the woman's head hard enough to the ground to produce a loud crack.

The woman kicked out, sending the slaver to the ground. She moved quicker than Leto had thought her capable of, for being thrown hard enough for a head wound. Drawing the slaver's own boot dagger, she used the hilt to land an uppercut before placing the edge of the blade against his neck.

"My Master did not permit you to damage his property, Ser." Her voice rang clear and strong in the now deathly silent yard.

Denarius smirked and placed a cautionary hand on the woman's shoulder. She flinched at the contact but did not pull away from the touch, instead removing the dagger from the slaver's throat. Her face lost the feral hatred, collapsing into a blank stare. Just like a slave, Leto mused, though she had only recently been captured and made one.

"And neither did I give you permission to retaliate."

"I-" Leto stiffened as lightning arced across her body, yet not a sound escaped her lips. Displays of magic were rather common in punishment, and the memory of that same lightning searing through his own body made him grit his teeth. When the sparks settled, the woman spit a wad of blood at the foot of the slaver. "Yes Master."

Denarius patted her head. "Good girl. Now, my guests will be arriving soon, and I'll not have them bothered with your antics. We will test your Fereldan tactics tomorrow." Without a second glance, the Master of the house waved a lazy dismissal and left the yard.

"Get off your lazy ass, dog," barked Captain Goreth as the new slaves scurried towards the slave quarters. Leto knew the insults were to mask his distaste of the reprimands Denarius used for imagined offenses. He was a good man who took care of the ones under his command. Well, as best he could with a Magister holding his rein. "Fall in and do as you're told."

On her feet, the woman turned to Captain Goreth and bowed. The Captain sniffed and pointed her to the end of the trainee formation, towards Leto. So, he was to keep her in line. He could do that. Responsibility meant he was doing something right.

As she made her way down the line of guards and trainees, a ripple of appreciation was silenced by the Captain's sharp order to disperse. There hadn't been a female in the guard for quite awhile, now. Leto waited for her to draw even with him, nodded once, then gestured for her to follow. He spared only the barest of glances for the new trainee as she fell in beside him, and noted with faint surprise that she was young, as young as he at least.

Leto led her to the guardhouse, wondering how to handle this girl. Woman. No, she was neither, not anymore. A slave, and a potential threat to his mothers' and sisters' freedom. But the Captain would also call her a comrade. So Leto would do the same, for now.

"Leto."

"Ryna," she said with a wry quirk of her lips. Her voice was still clear and strong, with a hint of dark humor. It came too easily to her. Something was off about her actions, erratic. Leto could attribute it to unfamiliarity and nerves, but she seemed too wily for that.

"Meals are cooked by the off-duty guardsmen on the fire in the middle of the hall. Bunks are assigned, and trainees get the floor." Inside, a senior guardsman relieved Leto of his greatsword and handed it off to an armory attendant. "Trainees aren't permitted to carry weapons outside the training ring. Other than that, keep your head down, ears open, and ask me any questions before you go bothering anyone else."

Leto led her to the line at the other end of the room for her dinner and watched from the corner of his eye as she observed the bustle around her silently. Gone was the timid slave. She seemed almost brazen in her scrutiny of what could ostensibly be called her new home. When she was done cataloging the room and it's inhabitants, she turned to him with a frank gaze, a finger tapping her chin contemplatively.

"Where can a girl get a bath?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Any notes on the progression of the friendship and characterization would be greatly appreciated, as well as on narrative flow. It's why it took me so long with this chapter, but I hope it was worth the wait! ConCrits, as always, are greatly appreciated. ^_^

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><p>"The bath room is across the hall from the armory." Ryna watched as a slight blush crawled up Leto's neck, but decided to forgo any teasing. He seemed a rather serious sort. Broodish, even. "It… is usually empty by tenth bell."<p>

"Hm. Dinner first, then."

When they finally reached the fire, they were the last, and the pickings had something to be desired. However, there was more than enough for them both, and Ryna's stomach twisted in anticipation. Going for weeks without bathing had nothing on bare minimum rations.

The guardsman at the pot looked up, and with only a cursory glance in Ryna's direction, ladled a bowl full of the now lukewarm stew. He handed it to Leto, along with the leftover heel of bread. Then he settled back and chewed on his own piece of bread, studiously ignoring her.

Ryna raised a brow at this, ready to turn away with no meal for the day. In her mind, it would not be wise to test a trainee's combat aptitudes after so long starving, and not just unsafe for the trainee herself. But if this were a punishment, or a test itself, then she would not complain. Her stomach might, but she would not.

Captain Goreth chose that time to stick his head into the common room and shout, "New one gets a full ration," before leaving just as quickly.

Full bowl in hand, the bread soaking in the broth, Ryna looked around for a place to eat in peace. She would have liked nothing more than to just accost the stewpot with her spoon, but that wasn't very classy. She may be a slave now, but she wasn't about to forget her civility.

Leto caught her eye along the back wall, where a number of bedrolls were lined up. Each one was occupied by a trainee, but for the one beside Leto. His was last, near a side door. A place of trust, Ryna noticed, as was the rear guard of a formation. For a trainee he was utterly loyal, then, and unlikely to help with any escape plans. Well, it wasn't like Ryna expected things to go easy for her.

With a slight groan at the stretch and pull of her injuries, Ryna folded herself into a sitting position beside Leto. She could have easily shrugged off the dull pain, but she didn't trust her guide into slavery, and so played up her soreness. It was still very unclear whether Leto's loyalty was to the Captain or the Master, and that was a very important distinction.

"Eat slow. They probably didn't feed you much, and you won't get more if you puke it up."

"I know." She didn't mean to sound snobby, but she had already taken a very tentative nibble and had set down her spoon. "Sorry. I mean that this is not the first time I've gone without for so long."

"Oh?"

Ryna wasn't sure if he was truly curious, or trying to get her to slip up and tell him something no one in Tevinter needed to know. So she gave a nonchalant nod and poked at her stew. Leto looked at her expectantly, and she somehow felt hollow when he returned his attention to his own meal.

Maybe, in another life, they might have become friends. She could say that about a lot of the people her age she had met growing up and moving around. Even the people she claimed were friends back in Lothering were really only passing acquaintances. Everything about her life was wrapped up in protecting her family. She didn't question it, didn't begrudge it.

It was silly to consider forming a friendship here, even a fake one. Despite all her trickery, Ryna found it loathsome to pretend at such a relationship. It was too special, in her mind, like love and respect. Attraction, joy, fear, anger - she could pretend a lot of emotions. But it felt wrong to lie about such pure, honest feelings. Respect, love, affection… those were ones she would not play at, not even for her life.

With a shake of her head to stave off any thoughts beyond plans of escape, she concentrated on her stomach and the food in front of her.

It took her an hour of small bites and gut twists to finish her stew, but she did. After a week unconscious, and several more with almost nothing to eat, her belly felt distended. But she was satisfied, and ready to sleep. After a bath. She needed a bath, she really did.

From the main door, a man in senior armor - Ryna had begun picking out the different ranks and gear as she ate - yelled for Leto and the new one to go to the Captain's quarters. It was surely too soon for anyone to bother to learn her name.

Without a word, Leto picked up his bowl and placed it in a larger bin full of dirty dishes and utensils. Ryna did the same, and wondered if there was some sort of chore rotation, or if the kitchens took care of those. She hated doing dishes. And washing clothes. Oiling armor wasn't a problem, she liked her armor. But if she had to wash dishes, she would. She didn't have to like it.

The Captain's room was not nearly as big as Ryna had expected, and as spartan in luxury as the common area. She respected him for that, even if it might not have been his choice, which she thought it was. He stood behind the plain desk, a set of leather armor, a repair and bath kit, and what looked like a clean, simple dress and undergarments. In the midst of this sat a pair of daggers, a bow, and a quiver of arrows.

Her weapons of choice.

She itched to pick them up, to know them again after too long without, and took an eager step forward. The door snapped shut behind her, and she felt Leto at it, waiting for her to make some move. Ryna stilled, and tore her gaze from the blades. Why Captain Goreth had them on display for her was inconsequential, because she doubted they would be in her hands anytime soon.

Ryna bowed. "Captain."

Goreth grunted. "No bowing. The Master sees that, we'll both get the whip, at least."

"Yes Captain."

"You will be tested tomorrow, after morning exercises. The Master has permitted you the use of daggers, but no armor. I and two of my Sergeants will oversee, and you will compete against the other trainees."

"Yes Captain." Behind her, Ryna heard Leto shuffle.

Goreth gestured to the items on the desk. "According to your… captor, your preferred style of fighting is from the shadows, but I would like to know from you."

"If I may ask, why, Captain?"

"To balance the testing. It's unfair to ask a rogue or assassin to face open combat."

Well, that was a surprise. Ryna had taken this man for a hard but honest leader, of course. It was why he was the first person she had voluntarily shown deference to. But she had pinned Denarius as a sick bastard, one who would play with his slaves, and be only mildly disappointed when they died without giving him enough sport. If she had to guess, the Master had made Goreth give something up, or take extra chores, or something. She didn't like it, but if Goreth thought the trade worth enough to give her a better chance, she would not belittle his kindness.

She had no doubt Leto, or the other trainees, would not hesitate to kill her if she proved too weak for the guard.

"Adaptive." Goreth gave her a confused look. "My fighting style, it's adaptive. I was a ranger of sorts when my mage and I lived near a forest. That's where I developed my bow and hunting skills. I took to dueling when we tried to hide in a large city, though we weren't there long. I can even wield a greatsword or a crossbow if that's all there is to be had, though I do work best with daggers."

"Hm. You take whatever life gives you and use it as best you can." A far away look clouded the Captains eyes, and she wondered what sorrows had twisted his fate. Her respect for this man solidified. It would not keep her here, but now it would be doubly hard to escape. She had no doubt she would plan things so that no one but her could be to blame, and hope Denarius wouldn't let loose his wrath on the Captain and his men.

"As do we all, Captain."

Goreth shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "The men have been informed to clear out of the bathing room by tenth bell every night. Everyone must be in their bunks by midnight, apart from the guards on duty. You are confined to the training area, and Leto must be with you at all times."

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><p>Captain Goreth looked to Leto for confirmation of orders received, and Leto provided it with a nod. Goreth handed Ryna the bathing kit and her change of clothes, then told her the bath room should be empty. She dipped her head in respect, and turned towards the door. Leto opened it, then gave one last glance to the Captain before leading Ryna to the bath room.<p>

A cursory check of the room revealed no guards and no danger. If Leto were to act as nursemaid for Ryna, he would use the opportunity to practice the duties of a bodyguard. It was the only way he could fulfill his duty to his family.

Someone had been kind enough to leave water over the small fire at the back of the room. Or they had left before they needed it. He paused for a moment while Ryna began preparing to wash. Leto wasn't sure if a bodyguard would stay in the room and turn their back, or guard the door outside.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ryna work at the ties of her bodice. Before he could do more than blink, the dress was sliding off her shoulders and down her back. A soft, strangled sound lodged in his throat when the fabric bunched on the swell of her behind, and he spun around quickly, almost smacking his nose on the door. With a deep breath in, he slipped out, letting it loose once the door closed with a click.

Leto sincerely hoped no one came around to notice his blush. He didn't like the girl, at all, so why did he have to act like a virgin in a whorehouse? Everything about his life was centered on freeing his mother and sister, on getting them away from the Master, or any other Magister, out of Tevinter altogether. Nothing would distract him from his goal, not even a pretty girl with dark hair and a playful demeanor.

Growling at himself, Leto rolled his shoulders and began sifting through the noises around him, wary for any sounds of approach. A bodyguard could not be caught unawares, especially if he could not see his charge. Who was now naked and vulnerable on the other side of the door he stood against. Sensitive as his ears were, he couldn't help but notice the splashes of water and soft sighs.

Damnable woman.

Nevertheless, he'd likely have to get used to those sounds. According to Denarius' current bodyguards, he liked to have company, and could get rather noisome. Leto scrunched his nose at the thought of the wrinkly old Magister and some woman, but continued listening for anything out of place. He went through his sword exercises in his head while he waited for Ryna to finish. Better to just not think about any of that.

And then she giggled, a sweet, cheery sound that bounced off the stone floor and walls.

The normal hum of activity in the common area, already lower than Leto was used to, all but died. He schooled his face into a bored impassivity as heads began appearing in the doorway. Some copied her giggle, and a wolf whistle pierced the air.

"What are you doing out here when she's in there, splashing around and making those sounds?" Ector sniggered. He was always quick with a lewd joke, but everyone knew Sela, from the kitchens, had his heart. And his manhood. "No interest in women, eh?"

Leto was about to say that he had no interest in that particular woman, but didn't get a chance. A shriek echoed sharply from the bath room, and he had the door halfway open before a sopping wet Torpa tripped out. Leto just barely jumped out of the way.

"Aw, come on, sweets." Torpa stumbled back into the common room, holding his side as he laughed at whatever joke he thought funny. Leto shook his head at his sort-of friend, unsure whether to call him stupid or brave.

Ryna stalked after Torpa, her face livid. It was the second thing Leto noticed, after the thin drying cloth clinging to her curves. Her hair was unbound and dripping water everywhere, and he guessed Torpa had been caught just after she had rinsed soap from it.

She backed Torpa against the brazier in the middle of the room, where Torpa finally reined in his laughter. Leto crept closer in, undecided on what he should do. He had failed to keep Ryna safe like he had been practicing, and could only guess that Torpa had found a hiding spot before Ryna had entered. Clearly, she wasn't defenseless, and neither was Denarius, but either way, that wasn't the point.

Torpa seemed pleased that Ryna had followed him, and emboldened by the audience. "We should really get out of these wet clothes before we catch cold. Here, let me help you."

Just as quick as earlier with the slaver, Ryna slapped away the hand that reached for her the edge of the cloth at her breast. When Torpa didn't stop his advances, she did a complicated series of slaps and jabs Leto couldn't pick out that sent Torpa a few steps back. Leto would have thought Torpa drunk, if it weren't a beating offense, because he still went for Ryna's only source of propriety. With an angry huff, she grabbed Torpa's outstretched wrist, slammed her other hand into the outside of his bicep, twisted his arm, and slammed his face into one of the few tables in the room, scattering a game of cards.

"Ryna. Stand down." The room shot to attention at the sound of the Captain's voice.

Ryna shoved away from Torpa, and Leto could see her face twisted, not in the disgust he expected, but in disappointment. "You know, I get that I'm the new girl. But even if I haven't earned your respect yet, I do deserve some common decency." With a nod to the Captain, she slipped back into the bath room.

"Leto."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Check the pile of used drying cloths next time."

"Yes Captain." Leto reddened at his obvious mistake.

"You've learned your lesson, haven't you, Torpa."

"Yes, Captain," Torpa groaned as he righted himself.

Leto stepped away from him, refusing to help the other man up as he staggered. It wasn't even because he had made Leto look bad. No, Torpa had made the guard look bad. Yes, they were slaves, but at least in the guardhouse they were equals. New or not, Ryna deserved better than to be treated like an alley whore.

Unsure of what to do now, Leto slunk back to the door of the bath room. He didn't think Ryna would attack him; she had shown what Leto considered remarkable restraint with Torpa. Still, he had been assigned to look after her, both for the guards' sake and hers. He had failed, and he wanted to tell her he would do better in future.

The door opened before he could raise his hand to knock. They both started, not expecting someone on the other side, and Leto lowered his eyes, uncertain of what to say. Ryna cleared her throat, then stepped out and closed the door behind her.

"I'd like to get some fresh air, if that's alright."

He nodded, and hesitated. "I… apologize for not ensuring your complete privacy."

She looked up at him in slight amusement. "Oh, that man, Torpa? You're not at fault. I had simply thought the guards all used too many drying cloths." She smiled, but he saw the dark look cloud her eyes. "No harm done. At least, not to me."

Leto wasn't sure she entirely believed that, but nodded again, and led the way out to the training ground. She set her bath kit and bundle of clothes on a bench by the door and raised her face to the night sky, taking a deep breath. He stalled, waiting to see what she would do now outside, but she just took to walking around aimlessly, running hands and feet over random areas. He followed a few steps behind, giving her some space while still keeping her in easy reach.

A soft chuckle escaped her as she wiggled her toes in a patch of loose dirt, and she covered her mouth in surprise. "Sorry. I was always going barefoot back home. To be honest, I hated wearing boots all the time. Made it hard to get a good foothold when climbing."

"Well then, you won't have to worry about being forced to wear shoes here."

"A silver lining!"

"You… are rather odd."

"I've been told that a lot." Ryna left the sand and continued her meandering, occasionally bouncing on her toes, taking wider steps, or pivoting on the spot to walk backwards.

After watching her for awhile, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Scouting my battlefield."

"Oh."

That made sense. She would be at a heavy disadvantage for her testing tomorrow. Simply knowing the lay of the land would help her. He didn't offer any advice, however, because tomorrow was just as much about proving himself as it was testing Ryna. He simply watched her, and when she was done, they returned to their bedrolls in the common room.

A few heads turned their way, but no one said a thing, or stared at Ryna overlong. Leto was glad of it. It was one thing to make sure the new trainee didn't try to run from slavery, and another thing to guard a woman's… virtue, from those she should be able to call comrades.

He stared at the ceiling as she carefully stashed her now few belongings beside her roll. She didn't seem overly protective of the dress she had come from Ferelden with. Perhaps she had told herself not to get attached to anything. A good lesson for a slave.

There was an awkward silence, everyone in the room aware of the new girl in their midst. Leto could feel the tension of not knowing; if she would try to escape before the morning, if she would survive her testing. If she would have to smack Torpa around again.

Apparently Ryna could feel the expectations layering on her, and with a loud sigh, said, "Good night, everyone."

Leto joined in the chuckles that filled the silence, and a few even responded in kind. When the room quieted again, he could feel the strain was not entirely gone, but instead now in favor of Ryna. He wasn't sure he liked the ease with which she had relaxed them all, but decided not everything this woman did was ominous.

"Good night, Ryna," he breathed, and turned towards the door he guarded, even in his sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm so sorry it took me so long with this chapter! Character flow was a bugger this time around, but reordering some events settled it. I hope it's worth the wait! ConCrits and reviews and even smileys, as always, are greatly appreciated. ^_^

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><p>"What are you doing?"<p>

Ryna started at Leto's whisper from his place on the floor. It was dawn, and she had left her own bedroll to sit at a window. It had been a bit of a chore, wedging herself into the small sill, but she was nothing if not determined. She had congratulated herself for doing it silently as well, but it had only taken Leto ten minutes to sense a change in his surroundings.

"Trying to meditate. Go back to sleep," she whispered.

There was a pause before she suddenly felt the heat of a body near her. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that an elf could step as lightly as a rogue, but warriors were never that quiet. She could feel his steady gaze on her, but she refused to look at him. Here, in the early morning, she felt the most vulnerable. She felt too much at home in the half-light, and too often spoke too truthfully.

"What are you meditating on?"

"Life."

"In Ferelden."

"No. Well, sort of. Just, life in general. How to treasure it, ways to protect it, why to continue living it." She felt him tense, but kept her eyes on the canopy of trees that spilled over the wall a ways from the window.

"I didn't take you for suicidal." There was a wry tone that didn't quite mask the fearful concern in his voice. She didn't flatter herself to think that worry was for her. There was someone else in Leto's life that held all his attention, Ryna knew it.

"I'm not. I'm reminding myself that, no matter the duties I impose upon myself, whatever higher power is out there gave me this life for a reason. Whatever hardships I encounter, I have to have faith that I am strong enough to endure them. That not only can I survive, but I will thrive."

"That is… a very wise attitude." Leto walked around to face her, leaning half against her feet braced against the sill and half against the ledge of the window. "I must admit, you struck me as more of a fighter than a philosopher. You are full of surprises."

"Oh, not really. Wait until I put an itch poison on the pommel of your sword. That will be a surprise." Leto chuckled softly.

Ryna turned to look at him then, and felt herself blush. He wasn't wearing his tunic. How could she not have noticed that? His side was pressed against her feet. Suddenly his skin felt hot against hers, and Maker, those muscles. Those muscles were everywhere, hard under his tanned skin. His arms were corded with them, evidence of long hours wielding the greatsword she had first seen him with. How could an elf be that buff? Her eyes traveled up his arms and across his chest and down…

She tore her gaze from the body beside her and placed it firmly back on the lightening sky. There was a short, furious debate in her mind on whether or not she should move her feet, and in the end she stayed as she was. No way would she give him the benefit of seeing her flustered. If he hadn't already noticed.

By Andraste, why was she acting like a blushing maid on her wedding night? Sure, she had been so eager for her bath last night that she hadn't bothered to make sure Leto had left before beginning to strip. And then she had been so angry at Torpa that she had walked around in nothing but a drying cloth. It wasn't like she had done it on purpose. Really, she'd rather just call things even and be done with it. No one would have to mention anything about any of… that.

"The dawn watch guard will be by in a bit. I suggest we move away from the window, lest we get an arrow for being where we shouldn't."

"And here I thought I was the wise one."

"Hm."

The smile Leto gave her was far too reminiscent of the kind her father gave her. A faint quirk of the lips, almost unnoticeable unless you had learned to see it. It was the kind of smile Father gave her when he thought one of her lame jokes was funny, but didn't want her to know. The sort of smile that told her he was truly at peace, in that moment.

It reminded her that it would be foolish to form any bond here. Leto could not be her friend. The only friends Ryna needed - the only friends she should want - were her mother and father, and Bethany and Carver. And they were in Ferelden. Tevinter held nothing she could want.

Her face must have shown her sudden change in mood, because Leto gave her a questioning look. She all but jerked herself from the confines of the cramped windowsill and almost fell into Leto. With an awkward evasion she steadied herself, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Heh. Sorry. Just…" Ryna scrabbled to explain away her actions. "Nervous about the testing, later."

Leto stepped back, and the spell of the early morning broke, just as a beam of light shot across the ground outside. "Right."

He left her to her thoughts after that, barely speaking a word to her as the barracks began to stir. He didn't try to divert her attention through morning meal, or assure her she would do fine. She guessed he probably saw her testing as one of his own. A slave was always looking to prove their worth to their master, and this was just another chance to do that. It felt wrong to see that in Leto, somehow.

The morning crawled by as Ryna watched the trainees spar, inspecting each of them carefully for weaknesses to exploit and strengths to avoid. Part of her wondered if the Captain was giving her a passive leg up, allowing her to watch the action. Except for the display of speed against her slaver, and hand to hand against Torpa - who still insisted on eyeing her appreciatively - no one had seen her fight. On both occasions, she had the benefit of surprise. Would any of them have paid enough attention to figure out even a modicum of her tactics?

Of all the trainees, it was, again, Leto that worried her the most. The muscles she had seen at dawn were no affectation - he was strong. Had to be, to wield his greatsword so skillfully. But for all his strength, he was almost as fast as a rogue. And he fought with a tenacity bordering on desperation. It looked familiar, like he was fighting for something other than himself.

Watching everyone, Ryna began to get restless. As much as she didn't want to perform on command like a puppet, it had been weeks since she'd held any weapons. Well, apart from the boot knife she'd taken off the slaver, which was now tucked into a slit in the leather leggings she wore beneath her dress. They rode snug and low on her hips, and she had rolled up the bottoms to above her knees. No one had made mention of them or the knife, so she didn't. If someone found the knife on her she'd get a beating for sure, but better to be prepared for any eventuality.

Despite how the morning dragged, it felt like moments later Ryna was bowing low to Danarius, the guards and trainees lining the yard in a rough square. The Magister said something vaguely threatening in a sickly sweet tone, and Goreth pressed the two dagger hilts into her hands with clear instructions not to kill, maim, or cause other long-term damage to anyone. Leto and the rest of the trainees stood behind her, waiting for the order to draw weapons and attack.

Finally, she would get to expend all the adrenaline that had been pumping through her since she had first woken up in chains in the slavers' wagon on the way to port from Lothering. Even with the larger numbers against her, she had the advantage of her pent up emotions and the energy behind them. She would have to pull punches to keep from seriously hurting anyone, though punches she would give.

A mischievous smile found its way onto Ryna's lips, and through the escaped strands of her bound hair, she dared look Danarius in the eye. She would pay for that later, but right now, she felt at rights with the world. With an almost lazy twist, she threw down her blades and sunk them hilt up in the ground. She turned her back on the mage and smirked at her competition.

Ryna felt alive.

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><p>Leto felt unnerved.<p>

He was the first to draw his weapon, but did not rush to attack her. He had never seen that kind of jubilant anticipation for a fight before. Maybe his Master had bit off more than he could chew with this new slave. It was not his place to question, however, and he watched her carefully as she sauntered closer to them all.

"Let's dance."

Before the others could react, Ryna took down the one closest to her with a few quick jabs, commandeering the man's sword and using his shield to knock down another trainee. She didn't keep the sword, though, only threw it hilt first into another's forehead. Leto barely had time to step out of the way when she jumped up and kicked a man hard enough to send him flying into the wall behind Leto. Ryna landed on a fourth trainee as he rushed her, slamming a knee in his gut.

Clearly, she was intent on enjoying this.

But Leto had not only seen her take down the slaver and Torpa, but he had watched, and learned. She depended on the element of surprise. Leto doubted she would be as good in a straight fight, or one on one. It had also been obvious to him last night that she only fought to disarm and dissuade. He would use that to his advantage.

Surprisingly, Torpa stayed back beside Leto, probably wary from his encounter with the woman the night before. Two warriors might be able to tame the rogue. if they were smart about it. Leto caught his eye, and Torpa nodded in silent agreement to Leto's raised brow. Good. They would work together on this.

His fellow trainees were looking on Ryna with reservation now, and the Sergeants had decided to join the fray. For her part, Ryna was letting them come to her, then deploying a series of attacks that took out several others. It was an efficient tactic, but she was still out in the open. For a rogue, it wasn't a good holding position.

Two brave trainees attempted to flank Ryna, and received a bloody nose and ringing ears, respectively. Just as she used a leg to sweep them off their feet, the Captain gave a signal. The Sergeants, along with Leto, Torpa and four others, rushed her from all directions.

Leto couldn't contain his gasp as she brought her feet together and leapt higher than he thought possible. With a twist and a turn she landed behind Sergeant Boreaus, sending a heel into the small of his back and his shield into two trainees. One made the unfortunate decision to fall back - he would be reprimanded later - while Sergeant Corr charged at her with a flanking trainee, greatsword poised to cut her from head to toe.

Ryna smiled and held her ground, elbowing the trainee hard in the face. As the greatsword drew closer to Ryna's head, Leto had the sudden urge to block Corr's sword. Thankfully, he didn't get a chance to act on such a ludicrous thought. Ryna slapped the blade to one side before taking a knee and catching it between her palms above her head. A heavy lull rang silent at this maneuver, until she twisted the sword to lay horizontal and smacked the fuller near the guard, causing it to flip over it's tip and land the grip in her hands.

Standing, she slashed diagonally up at Corr, who received cuts on his arms and a thick gash in his leather cuirass for his shocked hesitancy. Leto felt his eyes widen in appreciation as she swung the blade around, released it mid air, and kicked it hard enough to bury it in the wall just above the trainee that had backed away. She had not been lying when she said she could wield any weapon available.

It was now down to Torpa and Leto. Watching her take down his comrades and his superiors, Leto realized she did best when someone attacked her from the side or in groups. She hadn't even touched her own daggers since the beginning of the test; she hadn't needed them, what with her cunning resourcefulness.

If anything, Leto decided, he would have her take up those blades to defend herself.

She was fast, but he was too, and he knew how to wield a greatsword with quickness. He swiped at her torso, and continued through the move when she bent herself backwards to evade. In response to his strokes, she flipped and darted and dodged his blade, but he pressed her back with each one. Ryna all but danced with him, mere inches from Leto, despite the breadth of his sword and the large space of the yard.

At last, he heard a rip that signified he had caught the tip of his blade on at least her clothing. She darted away from the reach of his sword, and for a moment he felt the departure of her body keenly. He shook his head and brought the greatsword forward in readiness, wary of her.

Ryna had skidded to a stop between her forgotten daggers, crouched low to the ground with a leg extended to the side for balance. It was then Leto saw what had been torn; the skirt of her dress was slit from the side of her hip down, showing leather leggings rolled up to her knee to reveal a smooth expanse of skin. A few old scars marred it here and there, and for a moment Leto was distracted, remembering the incident of the night before.

Leto growled at this diversion, and forced his mind back into the fray. He did not care to notice the way the loose strands of her hair stuck to the beads of sweat on her face and neck, or the flush of her skin, or the way her eyes flashed in equal parts joy and anger. None of that, nothing she had to offer, was greater than the notice of the Master. Only the Master could free his family.

With a growl of her own, Ryna yanked her daggers from where she had left them, and began a flurry of attacks against Leto. A part of him could tell she was holding back, letting him get his own offensives in. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself doing the same as well. For several minutes he held his own against her, and that was far more than even the Sergeants could say. Leto allowed it to be enough; surely the Master would see his prowess, even if it matched Ryna's.

They danced, as Ryna had commanded at the beginning, until she suddenly cried out and stumbled. Leto managed to stop his swing a breath before it severed her head. His eyes widened in confusion, and then he felt the familiar buzz of the Master's lightning in the air around him.

Ryna fell to her knees, her blades dropping from her hands as she looked at Leto. Standing there, so close to her, Leto could see that while the magic pained her some, it was not enough to truly bring her down as she was. In her face, he read dejection, as though the fun were over and now it was time to suffer.

It was like that with all slaves, Leto knew, but to see it in her felt somehow wrong.

"Well, well, my little Leto. My new pet has proven to be quite the acrobat. She all but danced circles around you."

Danarius strutted around Leto, who still had his sword at Ryna's neck, even as she spasmed with the arcs of lightning from the Master. Leto dare not move from this position, for the Master had not ordered him to. Neither had he ordered Leto to stop his course, but it was always safer to keep the Master's property intact unless outright commanded.

"Yes Master."

"It's quite intriguing, isn't it? You're one of the most promising warriors I've yet seen, even for an elf. Ah, but elves are always bested by humans, no?"

"Yes Master." Leto swallowed. It was true. Elvhenan had been conquered by the Imperium, enslaved. But this human under his sword was also a slave, brought down by magic.

"Should I have you end her, before she bests you in every way? I wonder." Danarius stroked Leto's arm and down his sword, then across Ryna's neck and along her jaw. Leto didn't act on the implied order. He just waited, and hated the small quiver of his hand that cut a thin line on Ryna's neck when Danarius turned away again. "It would be nice to have a complementing set, though. Human and Elf, male and female, tanned and pale, light and dark…"

Danarius strolled away, an indolent wave of his hand sending his house slaves scurrying to gather what had been brought down for the Master's comfort. His guards took position behind him, glaring at the duo alone in the middle of the training yard. With one last look at Ryna and Leto, Danarius began to make his way back to the main house.

"Keep her," he said, as an afterthought.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Has anyone noticed the increase of time between each chapter? Yes? I'm SO SORRY! Now that I'm getting to the meat of this part of the story, I'm finding it difficult to maintain a balance of characterization and plot progression. Also: I got distracted by smexy Fenris on a new playthrough of Dragon Age 2. Wut? I did it for RESEARCH. Totally.

All reviews are very much appreciated! ^_^

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><p>Ryna waited for Leto to lift his blade from her neck, fighting the drag of spent adrenaline and the ache of magic. Whatever Danarius' taunts, it was he who had bested her, and she would not take this victory from him. And while Leto may have won this small battle, she would win her war. A small voice cut through the whine of exhaustion to say it was too bad they were not even in the same campaign.<p>

The guards all must have known this was a significant moment, for no one ordered Leto to stand down, or for Ryna to stand up. It felt an interminable amount of time later that Leto gave her a small nod and sheathed the greatsword. Ryna gave him a lopsided grin, hoping he wouldn't notice that no, she hadn't gotten to her feet yet.

No luck. He gave her a small frown, and when she still didn't stand, he held out a begrudging hand to help. Ryna was sure the hot feeling in her cheeks was from the exertion of the test. No way did she blush, or need help standing up. No. No way.

With a great effort, Ryna all but shoved herself to her feet. She wasn't sure how, but she was up. Surprised, though she knew she had no reason to be, she gave Leto a triumphant smile.

He didn't seem convinced. "Are... you all right?"

She was about to reply that yes, she was perfectly fine, thank you, when suddenly Leto tilted into an angle that Ryna was sure was not in alignment with the ground. He must have realized, because his little frown turned to wide eyes. Ha! Who's gonna need help up now, elf?

Next thing she knew, Leto had an arm around her shoulder and her back was pressing against his knees. It was uncomfortable, but better than slamming her head on the ground. The sudden change of view jolted her into awareness, and Ryna could feel herself shivering, despite the growing heat of the morning.

"Andraste's flaming tits, this is embarrassing."

"What happened?" Leto shifted out from under Ryna, who sat forward and cradled her head in her slightly shaking hands.

"Ugh. Adrenaline."

A shadow fell over them as Goreth and one of the Sergeants, Boreaus, came forward. Thankfully, none of the other guards crowded Ryna, though they did watch. "What's going on here?" The Captain sounded absolutely bored.

"She… decided to stay down here, Captain."

Ryna giggled, and even she could hear the slightly manic tinge to it. Leto had a sense of humor after all. She'd worried he would be a complete bore.

"Just… give me a moment, Captain. Or ten."

"You didn't get hit, so no concussion. Explain, trainee."

Ryna cringed a bit at the title. "Imagine going a month with adrenaline constantly building up in your system, but no way to expel it." Looking up, she saw a sea of blank looks from all the men, and sighed. "Imagine being cockteased for a month with no release."

The groans that filled the yard drew a smirk from Ryna. She was only slightly disappointed at the lack of reaction from Goreth, though not surprised. Another wave of fatigue made her sway, and she was comforted by the feel of Leto's hand bracing her shoulder.

She could feel the Captain's stare before he said, "Bedroll until midday meal, then training."

"Yes Captain."

With Leto's help, Ryna got back on her feet. Thoroughly embarrassed by this show of weakness after such a display of strength, Ryna knew she would only look even more an idiot if she didn't lean on Leto, who's rough hands kept her steady. It seemed he was an expert in half-carrying, half-dragging people around, because it didn't take long to get her to her bedroll.

However much she wanted to sit and analyze every move, every word from her testing, Ryna knew it would be better if she just slept. One thing she already knew though; she would have to be more careful around Leto. He had been the only one to have a sense of her tactics, and that told her he was far too observant for her liking.

It felt like moments later Leto was shaking Ryna awake. She groaned and grumbled, but eagerly followed him outside at the mention of a midday meal. The bright sun forced her to squint and rub her eyes of sleep as she waited for everyone else to get their rations.

Chewing on her dried meat, Ryna sat against the shaded wall of the guardhouse. Her body felt out of tune, awkward. She hated taking naps, even though she knew sometimes they were necessary. At least she felt ready to spar again.

"You feeling better?" Leto's voice, while quiet, still startled Ryna. She looked up from the patch of dirt she had been staring at and was immediately drawn into those green eyes of his. It was only the unique color, really, and nothing to do with the concern she saw in them.

"Um, yeah. Fine." She took a sip of water. "What about you?"

A stupid question. He hadn't collapsed. But he answered al the same. "Fine. Though, I don't know how well our fellow trainees are faring."

Leto gestured with his chin at the group of bandaged men. When Ryna turned her gaze on them, they all immediately turned away. She snorted, and shook her head.

"I'd meant to pull my punches better than that. To be honest, I'm shocked I was able to do half those maneuvers. All that adrenaline did wonders."

Beside her she felt Leto stiffen, his gaze on her sharpen. "Adrenaline cannot give skill were there is none."

Ryna huffed, and berated herself again for showing off. She had meant to use just enough of her skill to escape notice, either good or bad. Instead, Danarius' attention was now firmly on her, and she wouldn't be able to fake her way dumb.

"No, it doesn't, Leto. But it does enhance. Most of those maneuvers are things I've been training up to. I'm aware of the mechanics of each one, have attempted them many times, and failed."

"And then you didn't fail."

"Because I had the extra push of adrenaline to put me over the edge. If I tried to do those moves again, I'd probably just end up hurting myself. Just… just consider the testing a show of what I will be capable with after some more training."

When Leto nodded slowly in acceptance of her reasoning, Ryna breathed a bit easier. In a small way, she was glad she wouldn't have to dumb down her combat skills while she waited and searched for an escape. While the guards may get an eyeful of her abilities and tactics, she hadn't lied when she'd told Goreth she was adaptive.

"Trainees, to the yard." Ryna glanced up as Sergeant Corr strode past their group, and wondered how she would pay for bringing him down during her testing. He didn't seem like the kind of man to just let that go. Big egos were hard to sate when wounded.

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><p>Leto kept an eye on Ryna as he sparred with Torpa and Nicos. He had seen the stormy look on Corr's face when Ryna had taken her place beside Leto for the pairings. It was only right they train together; the Master himself had paired them, though in a creepy, unclear way. Still, it wouldn't be long until Corr put her through her paces again.<p>

For now, though, the Captain had taken her to Sergeant Wilm and his archers. From what Leto could tell, Ryna favored the school of "one hit one kill", which didn't help much in a full out battle. And the way she had moved during her testing gave Leto no doubt she would be joining them in the melee training.

"She's a sweet thing, isn't she?" Torpa swung around to slice at Leto, who parried just in time. "It's nice to have a… curvier view."

"What?" Leto pressed forward, striking out at a flanking Nicos. He knew what Torpa was talking about, but at the moment was more concerned with Brekle at his back.

"Ryna. Her curves aren't dramatic, sure, but they are mesmerizing."

Leto scoffed. "Torpa, you're going to get hit again."

Torpa just laughed and threw out his shield arm to block Leto's cut, rejoining the fray.

Not long after, Leto felt more than heard Ryna come nearby. She didn't join, just watched as Nico and Torpa attempted to flank him again. They, along with Brekle, would spar against Leto until one of them managed to break through his defenses and get a hit in. When they did, or if he managed to keep them at bay for a week, three others would trade out, and the process would continue.

"Why aren't you taking the offensive, Leto?"

He hid the startled twitch of his shoulder by shoving Breckle bodily from him before the rogues daggers could get any closer. "The exercise is meant to keep me on the defensive."

"Oh."

She watched awhile longer, and Leto could feel the roil of anger and embarrassment from Sergeant Corr as he came around to inspect the gathering. The tension among the six of them grew. Ryna and he were the only ones not actively engaged, and Leto wanted to yell at her to do something before Corr's temper got the best of him.

"And were are your daggers, trainee? Too good to spar with your comrades?"

There was a not so subtle lull in the action.

"Well, I figured I'd get smacked whether or not I asked for them, so I decided a slave would be passive about it."

Leto's breath caught as he pulled his greatsword out of the way of the charging Corr. From the corner of his eye he could see that Ryna hadn't moved. Indeed, she simply watched as Corr bore down on her.

A resounding crack rang through the air, and Leto cringed. Corr had yet to remove his heavy plate gauntlets, and Leto didn't envy the bruise Ryna had earned herself. Damn Ferelden impertinence.

The backhanded slap was enough to send a small girl like her to the ground, but Ryna didn't let herself get that far. She twisted and pivoted on the balls of her feet to land a step to the right of the Sergeant. Leto wished he could reach out and force her defiant eyes to stare at the ground instead of at Corr. He didn't want to have to nurse her back to health.

No one in the immediate area moved for fear of redirecting Corr's anger on themselves. There was heavy breathing from both Ryna and the Sergeant, and Leto could see her grind her teeth against the pain of the blossoming contusion on her right cheek. A part of him wanted to defend her, a part he was sure had something to do with his bodyguard training, and nothing more.

With obvious effort, Corr refrained from laying in on her. "You will learn to show deference for your betters."

"Yes, Sergeant." Leto was relieved to hear the tone of respect in her voice, even if it was a tad too late.

"You will spar with no weapons. From what we've seen, you don't need them."

"Yes Sergeant."

Corr stormed off to the barracks, yelling a gruff "as you were" before slamming the door. Nearby, Leto saw the Captain watching with his arms crossed. Goreth did nothing, and everyone took it to mean the matter was settled.

Sighing, Leto sheathed his greatsword and went to Ryna. She hissed when he grabbed her chin and angled her face to see the bruise better. He was pleased to see it was only her cheek; her eye had escaped any damage, though blood did weep from a few cuts.

"Corr is not a forgiving man. You should not provoke him." He gave her a hard stare to get across the point.

Ryna pulled away from him and worked her jaw. "I provoked him when I pulled that stunt with his sword during the testing. At least he got it out of his system." She sighed, rolled her shoulders, then turned to the others of his sparring group. "Come on, the day isn't over. Let's see if we can get at Leto."

"That should be cleaned, and a poultice put on it before it swells." Torpa added a salacious grin as he added, "I could help you put yourself right."

With a shake of his head, Leto waited for Ryna to beat him up. It served Torpa right; the woman had quite vehemently rebuffed him the night before. While she needed to learn to show deference to her superiors, Torpa was her equal.

"I'm not getting near a bandage with a ten foot pole unless Sergeant Corr or the Captain says so." Her frosty retort soften into a smile that favored her injured cheek. She chuckled softly. "I've had worse; don't worry. I'll survive. Come on, I've pissed enough people off today."

Leto wasn't sure if a sharp retort coupled with an indulgent smile made her intentions clear to Torpa. Or himself. But the others were already getting into position, and she was right.

Daily life had been interrupted enough already.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I am SO SORRY for the long wait! I swear, I was working on this chapter the whole 3 weeks I was gone. I had, like, 6 different versions, and none were right. I finally got grooving into this version 4 days ago, and it's done! I'm terribly sorry it took so long, and I'm working on the next chapter right-now right NOW, so hopefully it'll be up much faster!

All reviews are very much appreciated! **^_^**

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><p>Ryna chewed absently on her stale bread while she kept tabs on Sergeant Corr. Leto's warning about him had been entirely too accurate, and she was now sporting a rather nasty and extremely painful bruise on her side to match the one still coloring her cheek. In fact, she had quite the collection of abrasions on her body, all in some way or another a gift from the Sergeant over the last two weeks.<p>

Clearly, she had been too obvious in letting him get revenge on her terms.

Beside her, Leto shifted, stirring her from her reverie. She knew he wanted to check on her wounds, and also probably berate her for getting on Corr's nerves again. Those arguments were best left for the morning, though, when most everyone was asleep and their voices stayed low.

Leto didn't seem to want to wait though.

"Do you think you're done taunting Corr today, or do I need to just gag you?" He didn't look at her, merely muttered under his breath.

"It wasn't my fault this time! All I'd done was laugh at Torpa. You did too, so you can't say it wasn't funny."

"Did you have to do it so loudly?"

"I can't help it." She also couldn't help how whiney that sounded, apparently.

"Learn to. While it was amusing to watch you evade Corr's practice sword with your arms tied behind your back, it interrupted my own exercises."

Ryna grunted at him and took another bite of her bread. In retrospect, she didn't need to worry about keeping up the appearance of a new slave; she did just fine without even thinking it. What did the magister need with such base things as cheerful laughter in his household? He had gold-inlaid doors.

Corr finally settled down to eat with the other Sergeants, his attitude self-satisfied after dealing with Ryna. She could practically see the trainees all relax without him prowling around. It wasn't like they hadn't come under his scrutiny, just because Ryna had taken the brunt of his distaste.

Hopefully he was done for the day.

"Ryna."

Both she and Leto looked up at the address, surprised. Not many spoke to Ryna, treating her as a piece of the background if they spoke to Leto. Even then not many bothered Leto; he seemed to command an amount of respect Ryna didn't expect to be directed towards a trainee.

"Yes?"

"Captain wants to see you." Brekle, one of the dual wielding guards, waited for her response.

"What about?"

At the same time Leto hissed under his breath, Brekle's eyes squinted dangerously. Ryna sighed, realizing her mistake and cursed herself for something so simple. She lowered her gaze and her tone to a more respectful cadence.

"I'm sorry, of course. Right away."

Once Brekle turned away, Ryna shoved the last of her bread in her mouth and chewed vigorously. She wasn't about to miss out on her meager meal, even if the act of chewing somehow aggravated the pain in her side. That Corr had been able to get through her defenses to her side bothered her almost more than the wound itself.

Leto stood and shrugged his greatsword into a more comfortable position, his rations already long gone. He must have noticed her extreme level of discomfort, because he surreptitiously offered a hand to help her stand. With a grunt and a whimper, they managed it without making asses of themselves. Standing and still chewing, Leto handed Ryna her cup of water. She nodded her appreciation and drank while Leto waited a tad impatiently for her.

When she was ready but a moment later, he gave her one his almost nonexistent smiles. Ryna smiled tentatively back, surprised to see it in the middle of the day. He must have seen her pleasure, and dropped back into his usual scowl.

"So, Corr's lessons are finally getting through that thick Ferelden skull of yours."

"No, I just like Goreth better." When he turned back to look at her, she gave him a sly smirk.

Leto groaned at her obstinacy as they fell into step, but Ryna didn't miss the small twinkle in his eye.

A few faces turned their way as they wove through the gaggle of trainees clustered in the shade in front of the barracks. Ryna kept her head down and her eyes on the door, wondering why the Captain wanted to see her and hoping no one noticed how she slightly favored one side. Without even looking, she could feel Corr's suspicious gaze, likely wondering the same. This was one of the few times Ryna was glad for Leto's constant presence; it wasn't like he would allow her to blatantly break the rules.

Ryna almost sighed aloud as they stepped into the barracks. The air was blessedly cool after the heat of the training yard. Maker, but she missed the more temperate climes of Ferelden. Her appreciation was cut short by Orel, who scurried his way past them before the door had fully closed. It seemed his dislocated shoulder - courtesy of Corr, again - wasn't bothering him anymore.

"Ryna."

"Yes, Captain?" Leto gave her the semblance of a shove, and Ryna hurried to enter Goreth's office.

Again, the Captain stood behind the desk, though this time it was covered in what she recognized as various health potions and poultices. Sitting beside him was a bald man in simple robes, his face weary as he downed a tiny vial of glowing blue liquid. Instinctively she looked for a staff, though found none in evidence. A slave mage, then.

"With all due respect, Captain, I don't think Sergeant Corr will be all that pleased to see me hale and whole after all the effort he took to make he black and blue."

"I doubt Sergeant Corr would care to face my or the Master's displeasure if the Master's orders were belied for his amusement."

"Ah."

The mage started shuffling around, eyeing her. "Hm. So, you're the one that's been taking the brunt of the Sergeant's temper? I had hoped he had learned to reign it in, but, alas."

"Alas indeed."

"Well, let's get you fixed up. Strip, please."

"No."

Behind her, Leto growled low in warning, but Ryna stood her ground. She wasn't going to dress down in front of three strangers, even if she did trust two of them. And she most certainly would not let them find the boot knife tucked into a rip in her leggings.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not stripping. I don't have any open wounds, so there is no need."

"The Master has demanded I examine and heal every guard and trainee on the premises, young lady, and I will do as he has commanded. Now, strip."

"I'm sorry, are you the Master? No? Then I will not be stripping unless he tells me directly." Ryna paused for a second, just to add effect to her next words. "So, will we go to him, or will he be forced to come down her so you can see me naked?"

There was a heavy lull while everyone took a moment to wonder if she truly had threatened to displease the Master. If anything, she would get the brunt of the punishment, but everyone in the room would suffer. Ryna hated bullying them like that, but it was a bluff she was sure they would not gamble on, if only to save their own hides.

"Captain, if I may…" Ryna almost jumped at the sound of Leto's voice. She hadn't forgotten him, but he tended to be a silent presence. Odd, that he would choose to speak up now.

The Captain, with some visible effort, turned his gaze to the man at the door. "What is it, Leto?"

"I think she has a few cracked ribs on her left side. Other than that, there's the bruise that won't go away on her right calf. Everything else you can see, and aren't of much consequence. "

"And how do you know that, boy." The mage shifted his attention to give Leto a dubious look.

"I was with her for every injury, and check them every morning."

"What of the times she's not around you, eh?"

"She is rarely out of my line of sight, mage. I take my duties seriously."

Ryna suddenly felt out of place. They were talking about her as if she weren't there, and the way they did it made her feel as if she shouldn't. That Leto felt entitled enough to argue against a mage, even a slave mage, surprised her to no end. She had gotten the notion that Danarius favored him, but even slave mages were considered higher class than non-mage slaves.

Before the power struggle could escalate very much further, Goreth spoke up and ended the argument. "Just heal her, mage."

"I need to see her side to heal those ribs."

"No, you don't. Any competent healer can knit bones without having to see flesh." Ryna stared at the mage, daring him to contradict her. She may not be a mage herself, but she had seen her father work many times, and dressed wounds herself.

"She will remain fully dressed. Heal her."

The power struggle transferred to between the mage and the Captain, but that was one easily won by Goreth.

"Very well, Captain. But if she is found to have injuries after I leave, it will be on all of your heads."

The mage, while distinctly unkind in his treatment as he healed her, was efficient. He bypassed any old or mostly healed bruises, concentrating instead on the fresher injuries. It was painful, but the healing was welcome.

While she didn't like it, she managed to hide her discomfort at having the mage so close to her. The mage, however, was unable to hide his disappointment at being thwarted in his attempts to let his hands roam. In retribution, the mage yanked her leg out from under her to reach the bruise on her right calf.

Ryna was not expecting the steadying hand between her shoulder blades as she tried to breath through the agony of keeping her balance on her damaged core. She looked back at Leto, who gave her a small nod and nothing more. Giving a small nod in return, Ryna bit back the grunt of pain as her calf was released.

It was a mixture of pain and pleasure as the mage healed her ribs. She was thankful for it, and the fact it took all his concentration on mending the bones. His hands stayed where they were needed. It was also comforting to have Leto's hand at her back, and she felt oddly bereft when the mage was finished and Leto withdrew.

"Three cracked ribs, and one of them close to breaking completely. I'm surprised you managed as long as you did." The mage was shaky, and a bit ashen, but there was a spark of genuine interest in his eyes as he stood and reached a hand out to her bruised cheek.

In her old life Ryna might have slapped his hand away. But she was a slave now, and slaves took their handling without comment. Leto should be proud.

Just as the mage's hand was pulling away, Ryna's face newly fresh, there was a bang and a screech. Seconds later the door slammed open, sending Leto to Goreth's side and pulling Ryna with him. In the doorway stood a pasty woman not much older than Ryna, carrying an ominous white staff.

"Yannic. What is taking so long."

The mage named Yannic began stammering, and Ryna felt just a tiny bit sorry for him. If this was the kind of woman he had to deal with on a regular basis, it was no wonder he had such poor bedside manners. Ryna pushed away the thought of the mage beside her bed and concentrated on the newcomer.

"Mistress. I am, ah, just about done. Just finishing up the girl." He pointed at Ryna, and the woman turned.

Ryna rarely gave sway to fear. She was a protector, and always would be. But the moment the scary mage turned to her she wanted so very much to hide behind Leto's back. She stood her ground however and was inordinately surprised to see Leto inch in front of her, angling his body to protect her.

The new mage noticed this and leered at them both. "Out of the way, elf."

Leto stepped grudgingly aside. Of all the warning signs, it was his reaction that alarmed Ryna the most. Goreth stood straighter, his face an impassive mass of hardness. Yannics she'd already taken to be a sniveling twit. But that Leto wanted to shield her but couldn't was a telling sign that this woman was not to be crossed. There would be no getting into her good graces.

"So, this is the new trainee." The woman grabbed Ryna roughly by the chin. "Hmm, pretty. I might ask Danarius if I could borrow you sometime."

Everyone in the room stiffened at those words, and Ryna suddenly found a lump of apprehension in her throat. The mage gave a satisfied chuckle and shoved Ryna's face away from herself. She caught herself against the wall as the mage turned away, shrieking at Yannics to hurry up.

"J-ust take this potion and you should be f-fine." Yannic shoved a health potion into Rynas hands and scurried after the woman as she stormed out.

Rynas hands fumbled as she broke the seal on the flask. By no means did this mage scare her nearly as much as Danarius did. She was too angry, too belligerent to be very powerful. But the fact that she had command of Danarius' slaves was concerning.

Ryna didn't even notice her leftover bruises healing as she turned to look at Leto and the Captain. They both looked shaken and grim. It was clear mages rarely ever came to the barracks, and their presence possibly never a good thing.

"Who was that woman?"

* * *

><p>"Hadriana."<p>

Ryna looked at Leto with concern, and he was unsure if he had succeeded in keeping the venom out of his voice. He himself had never suffered her… attentions, but his mother had, as had a few of the guards. Most never spoke of what the witch did to them, but it was never anything remotely pleasant.

"Mistress Hadriana is apprentice to the Master, and a woman to be cautious of." The Captain's voice was strained, and Leto remembered two guards had died when Hadriana had first become apprentice. "I suggest you keep as far away from her as you can."

"That… seems like an understatement. Though I think I'd pick her over Da-the Master anytime."

"This is no laughing matter, Ryna."

"Will we be laughing when Corr gets ahold of me, Captain? I don't think he'll be happy to see all his hard work wasted."

Leto was somewhat surprised at the urgency in Ryna's tone. She didn't sound scared, exactly, more… frustrated. He didn't think he had ever met someone who would regret being healed, especially fractures to her ribs.

"Sergeant Corr is simply attempting to instill upon you the necessity of doing as you're told and not asking questions." It wasn't often the Captain's temper was tested, but the clipped tone made it clear Ryna was pushing her luck. "Cracked ribs make you useless, however, and so you were healed."

Ryna opened her mouth, and Leto could see the arguments forming on her lips. For someone as observant as he understood her to be, she didn't take many hints unless forced to. As Goreth moved to stand behind his desk, Leto caught Ryna's gaze and shook his head in a slow, deliberate manner.

She stared back at him for a long moment, then nodded as she closed her mouth.

"Yes, Captain."

Goreth turned and gave them both a searching look. He must have found nothing of great consequence, because he waved them towards the door. "Dismissed."

Leto kept close to Ryna's heels, barely giving her room to walk. He wouldn't outright confront her now - he would save that for the morning, as usual - but perhaps she would respond better to his displeasure. Why, he wasn't sure, but it was better than watching Corr lay in on her just for breathing.

Once back outside, Leto guided his truant shadow to a group of trainees waiting to spar, far away from Corr. He mumbled back the sparse greetings, ready to let loose the tension the midday break had settled on his shoulders. When he had first taken on the obligation of keeping an eye on Ryna, he hadn't realized it would be such work.

"Thanks for staying away from Corr; I am not looking forward to his reaction."

He scoffed at Ryna's whispered thanks and turned away, even more annoyed because of it. Today was supposed to have been a good day, a day that would pass by quickly so the dinner hour would finish and he would be free for the night. He had done well this month, and Leto would not allow a bratty girl ruin his reward.

His anger soured into guilt at Ryna's expression of self-reproach, tinged with hurt. All girls must have learned that look from the women in their families; there was no way it was natural. Leto grimaced in her general direction and was rewarded with a flash of cheer in her eyes. He wasn't sure why he bothered to win those, particularly from her.

"Ready to go?"

"Calm down, Orel. The mage healed you, he didn't give you skill." Ugo guffawed at his own joke, and Leto refrained from pointing out he hadn't landed a touch on anyone in over a week.

"Hey, you can't underestimate the refreshing feeling of a fully functional body, eh, Ryna?"

Caught off guard, Ryna simply nodded. Leto was not the only one to catch the slight blush on her cheeks at Orel's unintentionally risqué comment. He was simply thankful Torpa wasn't around to take advantage of it.

"Right. Let's get to it, then."

With an inward sigh, he drew his greatsword and settled into a defensive stance. He didn't see her, but he felt Ryna fall back and watch him, waiting to strike. She had yet to land a hit on him, but she'd gotten very close several times.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of blades and, on occasion, Ryna's fists or feet. In truth, he found Ryna the best test to his defenses. She was quick, wily, and not above trickery. That she could hold her own against him without her blades was testament enough to her potential.

It felt like moments later Leto was rushing through a bath. As usual, Ector had his eye on Ryna while Leto took care of his own needs. The two of them got along well, though Leto was sure it was only because Ector didn't have to deal with her on a near constant basis like Leto did.

"I don't know why you're so excited to be away from that delicious piece of-"

"Enough, Torpa."

"Suit yourself, friend. I'll help Ector keep an eye on her." Torpa gave him a salacious smile and laughed as Leto shook his head in forbearance.

Dressed and ready to go, Leto stopped at the entrance to the main hall of the barracks and sought out Ector, and by extension, Ryna. He saw them both at a table of cards, Ryna watching over Ector's shoulder.

Before Ector could try to catch his eye, Leto slipped out the front door and hurried along the gravel path to the slave quarters in the basement of the estate. He didn't want to explain why he hadn't told Ryna he wouldn't be there this evening. For one, it wasn't any of her business, and for another, he didn't want her to insinuate herself into any other part of his life.

He was only a few steps down the stairs when he heard a high-pitched squeal followed by the slap of feet against stone. Leto resigned himself to his fate and braced as best he could for the coming onslaught. No one could hope to dodge it; better to get it over with.

A warning octave was reached right before Leto was hit full force in the chest by a young elf girl. Arms wrapped around him even as he stumbled with a grunt. The girl tried to jump up and down while still holding on, and Leto couldn't help how his heart hurt as it soared.

"Ah, Varania, you're lucky I'm not so easy to knock down as I used to be."

"I could if I wanted to." Varania squeezed another grunt from Leto before pulling away.

"Is that so?"

You may be six years older, Leto, but I still know how to take you down."

Leto grimaced as his little sister began poking at his underarms, the one place he was ticklish. He was soon saved by their mother, who took him into a tight embrace. It held more sorrow than the one from Varania, and he accepted it gladly. It was a reminder of why he worked so hard.

Mother leaned back and eyed Leto. "How are you, son?"

"I am well."

"You seem older."

"I feel older."

"Come, I made your favorite."

"Yay, baked artichoke and fish!" Varania ran ahead into the small room she shared with their mother.

A part of Leto wanted to tell his mother he had stopped enjoying the dish a long time ago, but she worked hard to get those scraps for him. It was almost a tradition, now, for them to sit together around the platter, a picnic of sorts laid out on their bed pallets. They would speak of the few joys of their work, and gloss over the painful memories and frightening moments.

Stepping into the cell his women slept in, Leto helped his mother sit on one of the bedrolls.

"How are you, mother?"

"As well as can be expected."

Leto's back stiffened, though he smiled and poked at Varania as she poked at him. It was code, that sentence, one that had been silently established long before Leto had moved to the barracks as a trainee. The Master had either used his mother or loaned her body out to one of his guests. It was how Varania had come to be.

He loved his sister, but Leto so very much wanted to kill the man who had caused his mother such conflict and pain, whoever he was.

"And you, sister? How are you?"

"I'm okay. Mistress Hadriana tried to take me today, but Isaak caused trouble and got picked to help her."

Mother squeezed Leto's hand to keep him from shouting at Varania, and it worked. Barely. It was bad enough that this Isaak seemed to always be around to save Varania. That was Leto's job, and he didn't need Varania getting tied up with a slave boy, no matter how young they both were.

Having Hadriana sniffing around his sister was worse than Isaak taking the fall for her.

"Varania, have you by chance been… special in the household, lately?"

"Of course not! I'm not stupid. I sometimes watch the Master and the Mistress do their simpler studies, and it helps me control them. Watch." Varania jumped up and grabbed a rag from a pile by the door.

"No!" At the sad look on his sisters face, Leto swallowed the lump that had lodged in his throat. "No, that's all right, Varania. Just keep practicing, in private. Control it, and don't use it."

"But the Master says magi-"

"Sh! Varania!"

This time it was Mother who silenced the young girl. It was difficult for her and Leto to accept Varania as a mage, especially after years of living in this estate. All they could hope for was that Varania would learn to use her magic and still maintain her kind heart.

"Why don't you serve us, Varania? This sausage pie looks delicious."

Varania thankfully perked up and forgot she had just been reprimanded. "I helped make it. Can I serve it, Mama, can I?"

Mother shot Leto a bemused look, laced with a touch of trepidation, but handed Varania the knife. Tongue between her teeth in intense concentration, his little sister carefully cut and served him a large slice. Too large. He tried to cut it up and put some back, but neither of his girls would allow it.

For whatever reason Leto could not divine, Mother waited until he had a large spoonful of sausage and artichoke in his mouth before asking what had clearly been on her agenda.

"So, is the new girl pretty?"

Leto choked a bit, trying to swallow his mouthful and maintain a pretense of dignity at the same time.

"Ryna?"

"Oh, she has a name?"

"Ooooooh." His sister let out a giggle as she covered her full mouth with her hand.

"Shut up, Varania."

"Tell us about her!"

"It's just a girl who'll be a guard if she doesn't get herself killed learning how to be a slave."

Even when she wasn't here, that blasted woman found her way into every part of his life. Why women were so much work, Leto would never understand. He was about to launch into a tirade over the new girl, and how she was making his life difficult, when he noticed the dead look in Mother's eyes.

"It must be very hard for her, having to learn to live like we do."

Leto took a bite of pie and chewed, shifting uncomfortably. Mother's melancholy moments were disconcerting. There was little he could do to help her, other than simply be in proximity. Since joining the guard trainees, that wasn't really possible.

With visible effort, Mother turned to Leto and gave him a shaky smile. "How is she doing? This Ryna?"

"She's a good fighter; best I've seen in awhile." Leto thought for a moment on Ryna's testing and chuckled softly. "I'm sure she could even teach the Captain a few tricks."

"What color are her eyes?"

"What?" Leto turned to Varania and could see his little sister was not joking. "Why."

"I heard she's a dog, from Ferelden. Most of them have blue eyes."

"And how do you know she's Ferelden?"

"I heard the Steward talking to Delora about the new girl. Apparently she's quick."

"She is. And I can assure you, she's not a dog."

"So she's pretty." Mother gave him a wink. "I hope we'll get to meet her."

"Mother…"

"Oh hush, it's my job to embarrass you, even if it's only in front of your sister."

Leto groaned, but let them bother him about Ryna. They seemed disappointed that he didn't know much about her, though Varania was keen about Ryna's mage friend. Though the evening was awkward, talking about a girl he barely knew, it was less so than dancing around the many taboo subjects in their lives.

It was late by the time Varania allowed herself to be ushered into her pallet and be put to sleep. Leto settled down beside her and began reciting from memory one of the stories his father used to tell him at bedtime. He barely remembered the man, let alone the tales, but Mother would still tell him the same stories at bedtime, even if she was bone tired from the day.

His little sister fell asleep in his arms, and he found himself dozing off, wondering if Ryna's eyes were indeed blue.


End file.
